growing in the goo

I totally got kicked out of Borders tonight.

E was at the check-out, and I was tagging along. E asked the smiling young man the store's hours, and he said that Sunday night is the only night that they close at nine; they close at 10 most of the time, and at 11 on Friday and Saturday (in case anyone was wondering...).

I had been browsing a book on urban sprawl, so I was fresh from a diatribe on the wasteful American culture. So, without really thinking about it, I said, "Oh, America. People should be home with their families!" in a snooty little tone.

The guy at the counter responded, "Oh, where are you from?"

I replied "Um, the U.S.," and E piped up with "She's from Boston."

That didn't go over well, because he responded, "BYE, Customers," and dismissed us quite annoyed-like.

I don't seem to be relating to people very well today.

(And that includes putting a server at the Lebanese Taverna in an awkward spot by asking if he's Lebanese, and getting verbally abused (yes! abused!) by some punks near the tennis courts. Oh, and being told "get over it" by two separate friends about two totally different things.)


(and no, I don't know this kid.)